Meant To Be Ch. 03

"I love it," I told him. "It's beautiful."

He smiled warmly, drawing me back into his arms.

---

I felt Nick give a small start when we heard a key turn in the lock, but I was too relaxed to move. We were sprawled on my couch, the TV turned low so we could talk. It was a week after Thanksgiving and since I had visited my parents for the holiday, this was our first weekend together since I'd returned. We'd each left work early and met at my place; we had plans to go to a play but other than that the weekend was unscheduled. We'd been trying to decide what to do for dinner, both of us too lazy and comfortable to get up. I propped my head on Nick's arm to call a hello to Gwen.

"Hey, slackers," she teased, dropping onto a pillow on the floor. "Wild night planned?"

"We're going to see Mai's play tonight - do you guys want to come?" I asked.

"Can't. Matt promised his friend we'd go see his band." Gwen stretched her arms over her head. "Cass, can I raid your closet?"

"Of course. You don't need to ask," I reminded her.

"Well, I just want to make sure Nick doesn't have anything in there he doesn't want me to see." She smiled innocently.

My body shook as Nick laughed. "You're welcome to anything of mine as well," he told her.

"Should I just whip something up here?" I asked after Gwen left the room.

I turned to look at him when he didn't respond and found him watching me with a playful expression.

"Whip something, eh?" he repeated, twisting one of my curls around his finger.

I snickered. "For dinner," I clarified unnecessarily.

"Oh," Nick said, feigning disappointment. "Right."

Laughing, he sat up, pulling me with him.

"Let me take you out," he said. "How about Palma?"

My eyes lit up. We'd been back to the restaurant where we had what I suppose was our first official date several times since then and it had become a favorite. I kissed him and stood, telling him I was going to change. Gwen returned just as I started to walk to my room.

"Don't be mad," she said immediately.

"Gwen," I said, somewhat stunned. "You look fantastic."

She was wearing a deep red halter dress that fit her beautifully. I had gotten it a few months ago when she and I had been out shopping together, but I hadn't had an occasion to wear it yet. I liked it on me, though I wasn't sure I had the confidence to really carry it off. It looked like it was custom made for Gwen; her extra two inches of height made the dress fall in all the right places.

"I know you haven't worn it yet," she said in a rush.

I shrugged and shook my head. "You should keep it," I told her sincerely.

Involuntarily, I glanced at Nick to see his reaction, gratified to find him looking at her interestedly but not leering.

"You look lovely," he told Gwen simply, getting up to put on his shoes.

She smiled and darted into her room. I remained in the same spot until I felt Nick take my hand. I met his eyes and he brought a finger to my forehead, rubbing at the wrinkle between my brows.

"What's this about?" he asked quietly.

I smiled self-consciously. "I didn't look that good in that dress," I said with another shrug. "I wish I had her body."

Nick shot me a look of fond exasperation and sighed. He studied me for a moment, then tugged on my hand.

"Come with me," he said, leading me into the kitchen.

He pointed to a picture on the refrigerator; it was of Gwen and me from her birthday party right before Thanksgiving. We were similarly dressed in fitted black tops and jeans, our arms around each other's shoulders.

"How does Gwen look here?" he asked.

I looked between him and the photo sardonically.

"Um, she looks great?" I said sarcastically.

Nick pinched my behind and I jumped. He flashed me a smile.

"Do you think she looks skinny? Or fat?" His voice was conversational, not teasing.

"Gwen's not fat," I said emphatically. "She's got a great figure."

Nick nodded, then pointed to me in the photo.

"And see how you're right next to her - look at your legs in those jeans and hers in her jeans...you two are the same size."

I sighed. "But -"

"No buts, darling," Nick interrupted. "I know how easy it is to focus on all the things about ourselves that we don't like. You need to realize, though, that when people see you, this is what they see. A beautiful woman with a great figure, just like Gwen's."

He turned me to face him and kissed me. Taking my hands in his, he looked into my eyes.

"Understand?" he asked.

"Yes," I murmured, smiling.

He nodded, looking at me thoughtfully. I tilted my head as I watched him, knowing he would say what he was thinking soon enough and enjoying studying his face while I waited.

"Pet, I have to go to Boston the week after next – would you want to come with me?" he asked.

I actually stumbled and had to grip his waist to steady myself. My heart jumped but he continued before I could speak.

"I just need to be there for three days, so you wouldn't have to take a whole week off," he was saying quickly. "And I would be working during the day, so it might not be that fun for you, but I usually get done by four or five -"

I put a finger on his lips to silence him, grinning.

"I would love it," I told him.

He smiled brightly, taking my face in his hands and kissing me slowly. I raised myself up on my toes so I could run my fingers through his hair. We broke apart when Gwen cleared her throat behind us. I know I looked at her with a dazed expression when she giggled.

"Sorry," she said, sounding anything but apologetic. "But seriously - get a room."

A few weeks later I was hurriedly finishing my tasks at work, anxious for the weekend to begin. I was staying at Nick's before we left for Boston the following morning. Ian appeared at my desk and laughed.

"In some kind of rush?" he teased.

I glanced up, sticking my tongue out at him. He gave me his impish grin. Ian was tall and stocky, with blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was only a few years older than me, but he looked perpetually boyish somehow.

"Let's grab a drink," he suggested.

I hesitated, thinking about what I wanted to get done at home before meeting Nick. Ian rolled his eyes.

"I won't keep you from your man - just one drink."

"Smartass," I said, grinning back at him.

"So, about to head out on your big trip, huh?" Ian asked casually once we were at the bar with our drinks.

"Big trip?" I repeated jokingly.

"It's only all you've been talking about for weeks," he commented.

"Shut up, I have not," I protested, chuckling.

"What is it with you guys, anyway?" Ian said, suddenly serious.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, is it just the accent? Or that he's so much older?"

I felt a flush of annoyance and looked at him with my brow furrowed.

"What?" I asked harshly.

Ian and I had worked together for only a few months but had become close friends; he was so easygoing and affable with a great sense of humor that I was instantly comfortable with him. I had never heard the biting tone he was now speaking with. I suddenly remembered Nick's insistence that Ian thought of me as more than a friend and wondered if it was true.

"I'm just wondering," Ian said simply.

He was looking at me so openly and without guile that I felt a little guilty for being irritated.

"He's not that much older than us," I said firmly.

"He's practically our dad's ages," Ian scoffed.

"He's not even forty yet!" I declared sharply. "I don't even think about our ages, anyway."

Ian shrugged and made a doubting noise.

"What's this all about?" I asked, my annoyance returning.

"I just don't get it, Cass," Ian said defensively. "I was just trying to understand, that's all."

"Understand what?" I sighed loudly. "I like him. He's a terrific man..." I watched Ian closely. "Do you really want me to gush about all the things I like about him? Because I can."

"No," Ian said with a harsh laugh. "No, I do not. It just seems to me like there can't be much of a future when there's such a big age difference."

"That's ridiculous." I leaned back, crossing my arms across my chest. "This whole conversation is ridiculous," I added. "Did you ask me to have a drink just to try to make me feel like shit about my relationship?"

Ian looked stricken. "No," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, Cass."

I watched him silently for several minutes while he concentrated on his glass. I was still annoyed but decided to change the subject.

"What are you doing this weekend?" I asked, hoping my voice didn't sound angry.

Ian met my eyes briefly, his expression masked. He answered politely, though, and the conversation shifted to innocuous talk about his plans. By the time we finished our drinks and said our goodbyes, my temper had cooled but I still felt uneasy. I was glad to see Gwen at home when I arrived.

"Don't take it personally," she told me when I described the conversation with Ian. "He's got a crush on you, I bet he said it out of jealousy."

I frowned. I didn't like to think of Ian having a crush on me.

"The age thing," I said. "Is it that big a deal? Everyone but me seems to think about it, notice it."

Gwen shrugged. "I don't think it's that big a deal. I do think it would probably matter less if you were both, like, five years older."

"But why?" I asked, confused.

"I don't know, Cass. We just graduated from college - we're still basically kids, trying to figure out our lives. I think the difference is more noticeable just because of the stage of life you're in. But I don't think it matters, overall."

"How am I the only one who doesn't think Ian likes me that way?" I said suddenly.

Gwen smirked. "Because you don't see yourself as a woman that guys get crushes on," she pointed out.

I opened my mouth to protest that I wasn't that woman, but her amused expression made me swallow my words. She was right; I didn't see myself as desirable.

"Huh," I muttered.

I noticed Gwen smothering a laugh and couldn't help a smile as I blushed.

"Shut up," I told her.

She chuckled and shrugged.

---

I looked around the first class section of the plane excitedly as Nick grinned at me.

"This is the life," I said, relaxing against my seat.

"Thank you for coming with me," he said, lifting my fingers to his lips.

"Anytime," I told him, sighing. "I may have to quit my job and just accompany you on all your travel."

He chuckled and squeezed my hand.

We had the weekend free to explore Boston together, and once his conference events began I tried to keep myself busy during the day. Each afternoon I found myself fidgeting in our hotel room, anxious for his return. The second night of his conference I was so antsy after missing him, I greeted him wearing a lacy chemise, jumping into his arms as soon as the door closed behind him.

"I missed you, too," he said, sounding amused as his fingers tugged the hemline up to my waist.

I kissed him deeply, his hands cupping my bare behind.

"Darling, where is your underwear?" he asked sternly, nipping at my ear.

I giggled breathlessly. "Do I need some?" I asked flirtatiously.

He growled and walked us to the bed, tossing me onto the mattress. I lay still, watching him hastily unbutton his shirt and shrug it off his shoulders, my eyes following his hands as they undid his belt and his pants. My chest fluttered in excitement with each portion of skin that was revealed, smiling heatedly at him. He started to lean over me and I spread my legs slowly, studying his eyes as they trailed down my body until his gaze rested between my legs.

"Christ, pet..." He swallowed hard. "You're always beautiful...but you have never looked more sexy than you do right now."

He ran a finger up my leg, stopping at the crease of my thigh and stroking lightly.

"You're the sexy one," I whispered, still not believing that he found he so desirable.

He gave me a teasing kiss, gently flicking his tongue against mine.

"Take that nightie off," he murmured against my lips.

I sat up and slipped it over my head, flushing at the approving sound coming from deep in his throat. He gripped my waist, lazily running his tongue over my breasts.

"What would you like, my darling?" he said in a low voice, hooking his arm under one of my knees. "Do you need me to take you slowly?" he questioned teasingly. "Or do you want me to show you just how much I missed you today?"

I whimpered, twisting my fingers in his hair.

"You have to tell me," he whispered, squeezing my thigh, his stubble rough against my sensitive nipples. "Because if you don't tell me, I'm just going to fuck you hard, like I've been thinking about all day..."

I groaned, arching my chest into his mouth.

"Mm," he moaned appreciatively.

He hooked my other leg over his arm and settled his hard length against me. I shivered and wrapped my legs around his behind, rocking my hips against him. He entered me slowly, resting against me once he had filled me completely, kissing me, nibbling on my lips, my neck, my ears until I was writhing beneath him. Withdrawing slightly, he leaned his hip to one side, then rolled his hip while pressing into me. He leaned to the other side and did the same, repeating these movements until I was going crazy.

A low, moaning sound came from deep in my throat. My hands were on his chest, pinching his nipples, moving to his arms to grind my fingernails into his flesh. I leaned up a little and gave his chest little bites. I needed to feel more of him, taste him, get inside him somehow. I wanted more of this.

"Nick," I pleaded. "Please."

He continued to languidly shift his weight from side to side, looking down at me smugly as I whined.

"Please what?" he asked innocently.

I grabbed his ass, panting with frustration.

"Please, fuck me," I gasped.

He grinned a slow, sexy grin that made me melt. Adjusting his arms so my knees were raised even higher, he hunched over and captured my lips with his. I groaned into his mouth as he complied. I was pinned beneath him, only able to grip his arms and kiss him back. His hips moved steadily, forcefully, plunging himself into me. I could feel every ridge of him, bumping against that tender spot deep inside me. I came instantly, my legs shuddering around him, and if anything he increased his thrusts to the point where my body was shifting further up the bed.

"Oh, God," I cried, my head falling back. "Yes!"

I kept coming, the burning tingle coursing over my body, my ears buzzing. He didn't stop, didn't let me come down from one climax before the next swept over me again, surging through me like a freight train. I fisted the bedding, trying to leverage my body against his. My eyes flew open and I took in his taut muscles, straining as he pumped into me, the firm set of his jaw.

"Nick," I whispered, cupping his cheek.

He blinked, his features crumpling momentarily. Holding my gaze, he cried out, resting his forehead on mine as he peaked.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned. "God, love – Cass – so good, God," he gasped.

I smiled triumphantly, contracting around him.

"How am I supposed to leave you for work in the morning," he mumbled, his head nestled in my neck, his shaft still moving inside me.

I chuckled, locking my arms gratefully around him. Even after how close we had become over these few months, he could still be so reserved with me. It was empowering to see him lose himself during lovemaking, to watch his resistance shatter. I suspected our age difference still troubled him, which I found ridiculous. I knew there were no reassuring words I could offer that would convince him, but surely he had to see – feel – how right it was when we were together, when he was inside me, when we were able to share something that powerful.

---

I paced the floor of Nick's living room, apprehension eating a hole in my stomach. I had been pacing for close to half an hour. It was his birthday and I had told him I had a surprise for him, and I'd spent the last half hour talking myself out of talking myself out of it. Finally I heard his key in the lock and it was too late to change my mind.

When he walked into the room, I was seated on the couch wearing one of his crisp white dress shirts, unbuttoned to my navel, and my black high-heeled pumps. My legs were crossed, my arms casually draped along the back of the couch. Watching him as he entered, my stomach still in knots, I forced myself to remain still.

His eyes swept the room expectantly, probably only taking a few seconds to find me, but it felt like tortuous hours for me until I saw his reaction. His eyes widened and he immediately dropped his briefcase to the floor. I stifled the nervous giggle threatening to emerge and gave him a small smile. He started toward me and I uncrossed my legs, placing my feet on the floor, my hands dangling between my knees. His shirt was long enough that it hung to my thighs, but I know the way I was seated led him to suspect I wasn't wearing underwear.

"Jesus," he breathed as he approached.

"Happy birthday," I said, looking up at him.

He was standing directly in front of me now and the bulge already forming in his trousers was right at eye level. I moistened my lips without thinking. He held his hands out and I laced my fingers with his, standing. I raised my head for a kiss, and he crushed me to him, his mouth devouring mine in greedy kisses until my legs were trembling. He gripped my shoulders and held me away, his eyes running down my body. He met my eyes, looking as if he was struggling to speak.

"Are you hungry?" I asked softly.

I started to gesture to the dining room table but he picked me up, cradling me in his arms.

"Yes," he said in a rough voice, walking to the bedroom.

I giggled, placing a hand on his chest.

"Put me down," I said laughingly. "I made dinner."

"Sorry, love. You're going to be my dinner. And dessert," he said mischievously.

He sat me on the edge of the bed, leaning over me. I pushed his shoulders back.

"Nope," I told him firmly. "We eat dinner first, before it gets cold." I ran my hands up his shirt. "But you are wearing far too many clothes," I added.

"Shouldn't the birthday boy get to dictate the order of events?" he asked.

I chuckled and leaned back on the bed, propping myself up on my elbows, watching his eyes widen as my position made his shirt gape open across my chest.

"Okay," I said after a short silence. "You can decide. We can jump into bed now, and then eat disgusting cold steak and lobster later."

I ran my foot up his leg, stopping with the toe of my shoe pressing against his crotch.

"Or," I continued. "We can have a nice dinner of delicious food...with me sitting in your lap and feeding you...maybe taking a break between courses if you like..."

I looked at him suggestively, enjoying his response to my boldness. His lips were parted slightly and his eyes looked dazed, his chest heaving. I paused for a moment, amazed that I was dressed like this, teasing him this way, with only a hint of self-consciousness. Planning this out ahead of time had been nerve-wracking, but in the moment, seeing his reaction, it almost felt natural.

"I got you dessert, too," I said, my voice low and breathy. "Champagne and strawberries...and ice cream...chocolate syrup," I went on, stretching my leg so that my pump was now resting on his stomach.

His eyes ran down my bare leg before meeting my gaze.

"And the syrup doesn't necessarily need to go on the ice cream," I added.

Nick sucked in a sharp breath, his hands clenched into fists at his side. I lowered my leg and sat up, wrapping my arms around his thighs, pulling him so he was standing between my legs.

"What do you think?" I asked brightly.

"I think -" he said, his eyes glazed. "I think - this is the best birthday I've ever had."